


Fallout: Hubris

by thetruecrystalvixen



Series: Fallout:Forgotten Lands, collective works [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, F/M, F:FL, Fallout, Fallout Forgotten Lands universe, Fallout game, Fanfiction, Gen, Humour, Not sure if explicit is needed if satire, Satire, There is no escaping nepotism and poliical favoratism, game, vault-tec, vaults are the future of societal constructs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 22:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21483652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetruecrystalvixen/pseuds/thetruecrystalvixen
Summary: Being born into a vault was supposable an easy life, a gifted existence in a world torn apart by war. The lazy and barely competent (by choice he'd tell you) Justin doesn't care for that, and as a 'repairman' with no actual skill in repair he'd rather half-arse his way through life.
Relationships: Justinxhates everybody
Series: Fallout:Forgotten Lands, collective works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548529
Kudos: 1





	Fallout: Hubris

**Author's Note:**

> Fallout belongs to Bethesda  
Hubris is part of my Fallout: Forgotten Lands universe, and not quite sure if Hubris is in its own environment at this time.  
Written for NaNoWriMo, have some fun writing.

**FALLOUT: FL: HUBRIS**

Staring rather blankly into the face of a dignified and respected position, one fraught with danger, conflicting interest and information. This of course, is what they’d have you believe and my response was valid as any other.

“Alright, so you want my story yeah?” I asked in a rather bored tone, leaning back in a delightful metal chair, only slightly unbalanced.

A long winded sigh was my immediate reply. “Yes Justin, I want to know how you ended up outside your vault, apparently it was because you were doing a shit job in your employment.”

I wrinkled my nose, “I couldn’t utilize my stealing fetish, and sure as hell weren’t any big ‘fuck you’ guns to play with in that hole.”

“Oh god, were you in a fight club too?” voice laughed, “I mean what else is more cliché in an anti-hero than a BFG, against the establishment with a kleptomania fetish.”

I snorted, “Fetish? I’ll take whatever I can if it isn’t taped down or labelled with a sticker that it’s someone else’s.” I frowned and grinned, “And by the way, I’m not an anti-hero, that dashing, dark and brooding asshole bullshit was popularised in the 90’s. A classic anti-hero is an incompetent whiner, with difficulty scoring a date and finishing their heroic tasks.”

“Sooooo, you’re like fifty percent anti-hero.” The host deadpanned, “With your whining.”

I laughed, taking a swig of beer, “Rightly so, I’ll whine all the fuck I want, as long as I’m actively kicking someone’s ass and not pussy-footing around.”

My diligent and rather abused host sighed, “Alright, from the top then, this radio play is going to be so shit, that if it were before the war, I’d get so many angry letters.” They paused, scratching their cheek with a stray pencil, mid-thought, “Letter bombs.”

“The PTA mum’s, I’m so afraid.”

“Justin, shut up and talk.”

With a roll of my shoulders, I shrugged, “So, it started with some idiot that thought my appearance was a significant event for some tribal legend…”

**Author's Note:**

> Preview, Chaopter One:  
Unsurprisingly with the sudden demand for resources, there was talk of war, people were clamouring for the best weapon, soldier or augment to show that they were the best for the fight. For victory. Hell, I remember seeing an advert in a pre-war magazine that advertised guns for kids, even commando camps to ensure that little Timmy can kill a red sun if one ever came on their land. There had been a remarkable amount of adverts messing up the few good magazines I got to read in my spare time, like I’d have a sudden urge to be better or become a soldier because I saw some poster about patriotism. I’m not some sheep that can be placated or swayed by patriotism for a failed country.
> 
> I just want to live my life in the way I want, because there’s nothing else for me to do anyway.


End file.
